Beloved
by Chaotic Serenity
Summary: What if Soi hadn't died immediately after the sword struck her? A story that spans three days of hell for both the shogun and his lover. Spoilers for ep 45. *Finished.*
1. Injury

_Author's Notes:_ This story was inspired by the novel "Beloved" (hence the borrowed name) in which the main character, a black woman of slavery, kills her own children so they won't have to live their life in bondage and later is forced to deal with the haunting memories of the past. A story that asks the question: What if Soi hadn't died immediately? A small alternate universe fic that follows the events that may have occurred if Soi had not died immediately when the sword struck her. (Note: That's the only AUish part of this story. Most of the story follows the canon afterwards.)

**Warnings:** Violence, major character death, sexual situations, swearing, etc, etc. Also, this story does take a small turn off the beaten path, metaphorically speaking.

**Dictionary:** All foreign words in this story are italicized.

_-sama_ = suffix added to a name that represents high rank or importance   
_ki_ = spiritual or physical energy 

**Spoilers:** Episode 45. 

Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi, particularly the characters Nakago and Soi.

* * *

Beloved

Part 1: Injury 

  
There was blood everywhere. Spurting from her wound, staining her clothes, flowing over her body and into his hands. _His hands_ were covered in her blood. The sight was consuming, his attention drawn even from where Yui was apologizing to him.   
He gazed at her trembling eyes, the usual glacial silver of his eyes fading to sky blue as shock and horror overwhelmed his form. Emotions he had thought forgotten ravaged his being, temporarily melting the ice around his heart to burn his soul mercilessly.   
Nakago had known Soi capable of many things, a fact that he exploited frequently, but this...this act transcended all expectations, all he had ever known...   
How could she still love him after all he had done?   
The hand still grasping the reigns of his horse tightened as her dazed eyes found his own, the arm around her waist unconsciously pulling her closer. "Soi..."   
She smiled faintly at him. "Nakago..." Her eyes grew hazy, as if recalling a memory from long ago, pupils dilating slightly, looking beyond him.   
_"Do you remember? When we first met seven years ago?"_   
Finally, she tore her gaze from the past and leveled with his once more. "Ever since that day...I...wanted to see you...And my final...service to you..."   
_"Ever since that time, you were the only one for me!"_   
Her voice was but a whisper now. "Nakago...I...love you..."   
Three words spoken left him weak with unpronounced grief as he caught her falling body, the warmth of her soul tumbling into his own. No. No! This wasn't happening. He didn't love her, so she couldn't die. He didn't love her...   
Desperately, he searched her body for some living entity left within her, for some spark of life to renew itself. His body jerked suddenly as he looked up at the last moment and dodged the arrow that went flying past his head, nicking his ear. Blood trickled down his neck, dripping onto the pool already culminating on his armor.   
Lifting his head to look around, he suddenly froze as the body he grasped in one arm shifted slightly. Shifted? Dead people did not move. Tearing his eyes from the battle, he turned his eyes back down to Soi, and was shocked to find the barest traces of life still within her. Her candle was burning low, but her fire was still fighting for existence.   
"Suboshi!"   
The youth turned from where his gaze was glued to the struggling armies of Konan to Nakago. "Yes, Nakago-_sama_?" His eyes were bright with anxiety, the desire to battle the helpless Suzaku warriors evident in his features.   
Nakago grimaced. The boy would just have to wait. Gently sliding Soi's prone form off his lap, he motioned Suboshi closer with one short command, "Take her back to the camp to the doctors. Now!"   
Suboshi nodded fearfully, carefully taking Soi from the shogun, balancing the young woman in his arms. He hurriedly took to the horse Nakago grabbed from one of the soldiers, galloping off with Soi safely leaning into his chest as he rode.   
Nakago finally turned his attention back to the battlefield. His eyes flickered over the scene before landing on Yui. The girl's forehead burned brightly with the sign of Seiryuu as she made another wish, one that obviously was not going to profit him in any way. It seemed as though his entire world were collapsing in the span of only a few moments...   
Temporarily blinded by the brilliant light that consumed Yui's body, Nakago did not return his gaze to the area until his priestess was already gone, leaving him only with scattered petals to comfort his bleeding soul.   
The defenseless Suzaku warriors were barely dots on the battlefield, much as he probably was, insignificant pieces in the great chain of being. A layer of ice glazed over his sky blue eyes, turning them to ice, as he found the fiery Tasuki.   
There would be no mercy.   
  
  
The sounds of death and dying were all around him, the sun a fiery angel sent to purge the land of its evil as it scorched the backs of struggling men. His silver mistress provided no effort to decrease the ranks of victims as her rapier tongue darted forth, seductively running her smooth hands along the hearts and throats of men before delivering them into death.   
Nakago looked once at the stars as they appeared, hidden from the eyes of average men, quickly consuming the fires they horded so carefully to fuel his quest for blood.   
By lifting one finger and summoning _ki_, Nakago managed to clear out another section of Konan's armies with one simple yet powerful, precise blast. The soldiers barely had enough time to scream as their bodies were consumed by the blue fire, souls sent hurtling into the next dimensional plane of being within seconds.   
Nakago hardly blinked as he destroyed them, not bothering himself with the fact that he took some his own troops along with Konan. He would not have cared before, and he would not have cared afterwards, but since Soi's injury it was...different. Each drop of blood was a sip from the finest cup of wine, the cracking of bones music to his senses, the deaths of every man his blade took the greatest satisfaction.   
He would yield to no boundaries of life or death. Seiryuu's greatest warrior would take his revenge on those who destroyed his world even if it meant going down in battle himself.   
His eyes swept the entirety of the battle ground looking for any signs of Suzaku's warriors. The jangling gold of Chichiri's staff, the prominent _ki_ of Konan's emperor and warrior, or Tasuki's fiery mane of hair.   
_Tasuki..._   
The shogun's hands clenched at the memory of silver on crimson, the feel of fading warmth collapsing against his chest, of hopelessness and despair as scarlet hair fell freely over his arms, contrasting sharply against the sight of blood.   
It was Tasuki who had thrown the sword that had injured Soi, and it was Tasuki who would pay the ultimate price for harming her. His fingers burned with barely restrained energy, the black hatred nearly consuming his steady control.   
Bringing his sword to bear once more, Nakago caught the soldier approaching him from behind, slicing the man nose to navel with one smooth stroke. Blood splattered over his already stained armor, the fresh red bright against the burgundy of old. He had left his horse upon spotting what he had thought was Tasuki in order to battle, but now he called the animal, mounting it with one smooth motion.   
Scanning the horizon, he renewed his search for the Suzaku warriors. A fleeting image of red hair flew past his eyes, and Nakago tightened his hand on the reigns. Oh, he would pay...Nakago kicked the horse, urging it forward.   
Suddenly, his travel was cut short by the cry of a soldier. "Reinforcements! Konan's armies have brought more men in!"   
Whirling around, Nakago's blue eyes widened as a group of rag tag bandits began filing between the two armies and into the fighting. Anger flashed through him at the sight as they began to bring his men down, and his hand went instinctively to his scabbard. For a brief second, he shut his eyes, hands tightening on the reign before opening them to look on with renewed cold at those who dared to defy his power.   
After all, he had promised no mercy, and Nakago was never one to break his promises...   
  
  
He had returned as soon as the retreat had been called, Seiryuu's forces overwhelmed temporarily by the emergence of the bandit forces. A minor setback, but an annoyance nonetheless.   
Presently, he was looking on as the doctors tended to Soi's wounds, his face devoid of any emotion. He knew the exact nature of their thoughts, of the doubts and fears that plagued their minds.   
His command had been short and simple when he first spoke with the physicians analyzing her wounds: If she died, they would die.   
The doctors scurried around fearfully, desperately trying to keep the young woman alive. It was an almost laughable effort, her wounds so deep and damaging that it was futile to even try reviving her.   
But the celestial warrior, to the surprise of the doctors, remained on the very edge of life and death, as if she were at the edge of a cliff, clinging to the edge if only for the sake of another, the wide, yawning gap of eternal sleep opening beneath her hanging form, the door to her survival shrinking every passing moment.   
Her shogun didn't seem to notice the hopelessness of her situation nor did he acknowledge her suffering spirit, her body racked with unending pain. He had eyes only for the doctors who trembled beneath his cold glances, who took intricate care not to allow their shaking hands to cause more harm to their patient, who ignored the cries of pain emanating from the other wounded. There was the only the young woman, the frosty gaze of Seiryuu's most powerful warrior, and the almost tangible presence of fear hanging over their heads.   
Nakago wasn't quite sure why he allowed them to operate on her body. He knew it was a lost cause; he could already sense the tug of heaven's hand upon Soi's wavering spirit as her life force continued to slowly fade into nonexistence.   
But Nakago had never failed before, and he refused to do so now. Seiryuu had already taken so much from him, so why did the dragon lord deem it necessarily to tear this last, fragmented piece from his shattered heart?   
As always, there were no answers to the questions he asked himself, the only certainty he knew of was that he could do nothing more of worth hovering over the medics.   
The sound of heavy boots turning and then receding was like the light salvation descending upon an sinful pilgrim's soul. Hands slowed their rapid pace, shoulders relaxed from their taunt positions, and overall feeling of relief swept the doctors of the Seiryuu camp. At the leave of their shogun, the five men all exchanged brief, fearful looks. They knew there was no hope for the young woman with red hair. They knew it, and they feared the outcome. Already, one of the medics was beginning to gather his possessions to leave before Nakago-_sama_ accepted the knowledge that so blatantly rested before his eyes. The faithful remained behind to bear it.   
Nakago's footsteps made little noise as they steadily walked through the undergrowth. He halted his progress only once to gaze at one of the torches outside the tent, his body hidden in the shadows. The wind blew hard from behind him, viciously attacking the flame, making it dance in the moonlight as it swayed once, attempting to stay alive.   
He turned once at the sound of someone hurriedly moving past him. Recognizing the man as one of the doctors he ordered to take care of Soi, Nakago grabbed him by the collar demanding to know why he was leaving.   
From behind his twisted body, the flame danced more violently, the wind tearing at its vulnerable core mercilessly. It flickered once, and then it went out.   
When the man finally answered, claiming that Soi was better off a dead woman, Nakago killed him.   
  
  
The moon was out. At least, that was the first time Nakago had bothered to take notice of it. His attention was focused more on the young woman spread out on the bed before him.   
In a condition too damaging to risk further injury, Soi had been left behind in the medical tent by the doctors. She was unconscious, but she was still alive.   
She was beautiful.   
Amazing how things are taken for granted until they are lost.   
His mother had been beautiful.   
Eyes traveled the length of her, from the pale visage to the tiny feet, fragrant hair to dainty hands, curved torso to soft thighs. She was beautiful, yet she was dying. But she was his, and he would take care of her.   
Because they were nothing more than candles in the wind, and the lights always went out too soon for him.   
He had long lost the armor of earlier, clothed now only in casual clothing, white shirt open revealing pale flesh. Fair like her skin, now burning with fever. He covered her limp hand with his own trembling one. Was it possible for a person to feel so cold and so warm all at once?   
Reclining next to her, he leaned his back against the pole of the tent, his hand still covering hers. She would be all right, he assured himself, he would take care of her.   
A lone, solitary candle burned dimly in the corner of the tent, lighting his way, the flame trembling as a gentle breeze blew in softly from the east.   
Nakago wondered just how much longer that light would be there to guide him.

* * *

1.) Yes, that is depressing. Deal with it; time will only make it worse. No, Soi has not died yet. Yes, people will get desperate. And yes, even Nakago will get shaken.

2.) Most of this story takes place 


	2. Fade Away

_Author's Notes:_ Part two, in which Nakago struggles with Soi as she continues to slip out of his grasp. 

**Warnings:** Mild gore, sexual situations.

**Spoilers:** Episode 45. 

Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi, particularly the characters Nakago and Soi.

* * *

Beloved

  
Day Two: Fade Away   
  
Facing the dawn of the second day was perhaps on the most difficult experiences Nakago had ever encountered. Though the sunrise promised renewal and reawakening to many, it only bestowed Nakago the grueling torture of watching Soi slip away into the dark realm of eternity.   
The doctors had worked all through the night, their life-saving rhythm beating in time with that of the passing hours. Finally, sometime around the fifth hour of the morning, they had stopped the bleeding. Nakago could vaguely remember the measured step in which the doctors had guided him back to the medical tent where she lay, her body bandaged and unconscious from blood loss.   
She was still asleep, resting in his personal quarters. When the personnel had attempted to take her into one of the sick rooms, he had vehemently denied their pleas; if Soi were to die, she would not do so buried among common soldiers. She deserved better than that.   
_"And exactly what is it that she deserves?"_ said his inner voice bitterly, _"To live again so you can only push her away?"_   
Before he could answer his own thoughts, a greeting sounded from outside the tent. Silently, he walked over and opened the flap, greeting the old physician who stood there with a nod. The elderly man slowly walked over to where Soi lay, her scarlet hair loose and strewn across the pillow, falling over her shoulders and framing her face. He placed a hand over her forehead gently, checking for fever. His hands moved over her body, removing her bandages, feeling the wounds, testing her reactions, checking for infection. Nakago followed suit when the medic frowned at something he noticed on one of the wounds.   
Finishing his analysis, he turned to the shogun with sad eyes. "How long has she been in this condition?"   
Battling feelings of hopelessness, Nakago answered quietly, "About a day."   
A forehead crinkled with worry. "She's showing signs of possible infection as well as trauma. Was she on the battlefield at the time of her injury?"   
"She's a celestial warrior of Seiryuu," Nakago answered, as if that could answer any inquiry the man had, "Part of the war effort." His words were hollow in his own ears, devoid of emotion or worry. _Uncaring._   
The brow burrowed further. "That would explain the severity of the wound," said the doctor softly. Reaching out one cool hand, he placed it on the young woman's forehead, frowning at the heat he felt beneath his sensitive fingertips. "She has a fever," he announced.   
"Is there anything you can do?"   
The old doctor turned to face the blonde man fully. Gentle black eyes met harsh blue ones. Few people could read Kutou's implacable shogun, his thoughts an enigma to all who attempted to reach beyond the pale features to the cold heart that beat slowly within. But the good doctor had spent a lifetime gazing into the eyes of men as they died; he had seen every emotion reflected in glazed, emotionless gazes, and he could see that same despair now.   
Slowly, he turned his gaze back to the girl. By any normal standards, she should already be dead. The wound was deep, the blood loss heavy, and there were already signs of infection appearing on the wound. If she hadn't died already, the time would be very soon. His features softened, and he wondered idly if the two were lovers. Those with someone to leave behind were always the most reluctant to release the hand that held them down.   
He tore his gaze from the girl, returning to the emotionless shogun. How he pitied the young man. "I have some salves that may help." He paused. "I will do what I can."   
  
  
She could be called beautiful, if he still knew the meaning of such a word. She could steal a man's breath with her ethereal presence, could bring an entire empire to its knees with the use of her powers; if she had truly wanted, she could have even possibly controlled him.   
But she wasn't like that. Wasn't like _him_. Rather than conquering and pillaging, she had opted to gain his trust first before ever making a move. She had bothered to know him. Love him.   
He once had a dream where he was alone, nobody around to comfort him. There had been darkness all around, no sides or walls to find his bearings, no halls through which he could travel. There had only been the evil behind him and the wide, yawning canyon before him, beckoning him to its death, ready to consume his soul. When he reached out a hand, darkness grasped him, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't escape.   
There had been only she as he awoke. Because no matter how hard he tried to escape the darkness, when it came to the night, there was only she, his self, and the unreachable stars. And he was comforted by the thought that he at least her soul was still with him.   
He was there when she finally regained consciousness midway through the second day, his hands folded on his lap, his gaze focused on something outside the yawning window nearby.   
Her voice was faint, weak when she first opened cracked lips to speak his name. "Nakago-_sama_..."   
Forcing down the sensation of glee that rose within him, he turned to her with wavering eyes. "Soi...So you've awakened."   
"Nakago-_sama_?" Her eyes searched the room dazedly, her entire body alight with fire. Everything was spinning, the world shifting beneath the body. It stopped as one fair hand dropped against her forehead, cool and refreshing against the backdrop of her fever. "Nakago?"   
Had she just called him by informal name? He pulled his hand away. "Your fever's getting worse. I'll get the doctors."   
He stood up to leave but was stopped by her insistent hand. "Where-Where are you going?" Her body wrenched suddenly in pain, the pain manifesting as she moved, and she cried out in pain. Soi choked, coughing on the blood that rose in her throat as her chest heaved. Falling back, her head hit the pillow hard, her body throbbing with pain. "What happened to me?"   
"You were wounded in battle," he said simply, his back still turned to her, "I had Suboshi bring you back."   
"You saved me."   
Halting, Nakago whirled around to face her, gazing at her in disbelief. "It was not I who brought you back. Suboshi brought you."   
"Yes," she said softly, closing her eyes, "But it was you who believed that I could live." Soi smiled at him, a sight that was like watching a rainbow form in the brilliant, blue sky. "You saved me. Thank you."   
It was then that Soi dozed off into unconsciousness, leaving Nakago with only the echo of her voice and the reality of the dawning sun.   
  
  
"You are to take the remaining squadrons and lead them to the southern camps. There, I want you to regroup and prepare for my orders to attack. Is that understood?"   
Vice-shogun Hatsui Manoto nodded in accordance to his leader's words, carefully following each word that fell from the blonde man's lips. This was the very first time his skill had ever been tested; before this, the head shogun had been able to take care of all procedures. The thought left him somewhat giddy and lightheaded. Finally, two years of lagging behind as only a messenger were coming to an end.   
But his victory over disuse was dampened by the listless tone in which his shogun issued the order. General Nakago was one apt to apathy, but now more than ever did his tone seem hollow and dispassionate.   
Hatsui wondered exactly what had happened on the battlefield to cause Kutou's most powerful general to fail in his mission. Rarely did the man show fault in any area of skill, a characteristic that made him both a fearful and beloved general. After all, there were only so many men in the Kutou empire who could keep every loyal soldier as disciplined as they were as Nakago was able.   
It was a strange paradox, upon reflection. Though the shogun was a descendent of a ethnicity Kutou's people loathed, he had the loyalty of thousands of men beneath his heel. No man dared to betray the name of Kutou while under the watchful blue eyes of their foreign leader.   
But the light was fading, if there had even been a light in the first place. Nakago finished his instructions with a bare movement of a hand, a dismissive wave to show Hatsui that their meeting was over. The young man nodded slightly before bowing respectfully and leaving. On his way out, he noticed that one of the torches was beginning to flicker, its flame dying. Reaching up, he grasped it, intending to extinguish the fire.   
"Stop. Let it burn."   
Hatsui jumped at the sound of his shogun's words. Almost guiltily, he turned to face the shogun. "Yes, Nakago-_sama_?"   
"It's nothing Hatsui, just let the torch alone."   
"I was just going to replace it. I mean it was going to--"   
"I said leave it. A flame dies out soon enough without the hands of others to smother it." As an afterthought, he added softly, "And once a flame dies, nothing can replace it."   
Hatsui left the torchlight burning.   
  
  
The moonlight shown full in the darkness of the night, a solitary beacon of light in the consuming blackness. Her features were pallid in the illumination of the stars, red hair stained a soft magenta.   
She was...breathtaking.   
Cautiously, he approached her. As if she were crystal too easily shattered, he reached out a hand and lightly pressed against her temple. His fingers came back slick with her sweat, results of her burning fever. Her labored breathing was overwhelmingly loud in his ears, like a storm's wind rushing at him full speed.   
She was so...weak! Never before had he been by her side when her _ki_ was so low. Sure, there had been the times after their sexual encounters where she had dozed off next to him, her energy depleted after transferring power to his body, but that had been all right. He had accepted it because he needed it, and if she were willing to suffer the consequences, then he should he worry?   
He was worried now.   
It wasn't fair. Nakago was the one who desired death, not Soi. Not the beautiful, loving young woman who still had a heart. Who still knew how to live. How to _love_.   
Soi had awoken once more that day. And she had gazed at him with that same hopeful, grateful stare as she had before. And he had been there, looking back at her with the same incredulous look he had given her in response. Again.   
Nakago had remained silent through the entire episode while she spoke deliriously of her past and how he had saved her. There had been no words to comfort her when she painfully spoke of the struggle to win his heart, and his soul was shamed to hear her repeat softly the same words of love she had when the sword first struck her.   
Sliding his fingers past her forehead, Nakago cupped one side of her face in his hand, studying the pale features carefully. He had to do something...anything to save her! After all, he had never failed before, so there had to be some way, some method of igniting the flame within her.   
Muscles in her cheek twitched when his fingers trailed softly over the contours, and Soi's soft, grey eyes fluttered open weakly to take one last look at her shogun. "Nakago?"   
The melody of the night played softly in his ear, and a soft breeze fluttered the tent flap nearby. Soi felt the wind flutter over her body, its touch cool and refreshing to her overheated body. She reveled in it, tilting her head to deeply inhale the scent of flowers that wafted in from the tent opening.   
She choked harshly as the air caught in her throat, specks of white and crimson harshly ejected onto the sheets around her. A thin trickle of blood slipped out from the corner of her mouth. Nakago, who had not turned his gaze away through all of this, thumbed her lips gently, wiping the fluid away gently.   
"Nakago-_sama_...thank you." She smiled faintly at him again, a sight that wasn't quite so grand in the darkness of the night.   
Standing, he pulled away from her, his hands fiddling with the fastens of his armor. She had given so much to him; it was only right that he at least give something in return. He was at a loss for what to do, yet he refused to fail! There had to some way to help her...   
Soi moved uncomfortably in the bed, shifting so that the robe fell back slightly, revealing smooth, pale skin. He swallowed. There was still at least one way...   
Struggling with his armor, he pulled it off, undressing quickly as the glittering stars reminded him of the waning hours. Dropping the last of the garments, he stood bare in the moonlight for a moment, naked and vulnerable, before placing one foot on the bed, swinging his body over and straddling her thighs.   
Leaning forward, he grasped her face with both hands, pulling her eyes to his. For a moment he simply gazed at her, silver-blue to grey-green. She returned his piercing stare with a curious look, though her pupils emanated no fear, only trust for whatever path he chose to take.   
"Nakago?"   
"I want to help you," he said flatly, cutting her off. Dipping his head, he pressed his mouth against hers before she could resist.   
Breathless, she looked at him with sad eyes. "But you've already saved me..."   
"I want to help you," he repeated again, tonelessly, and carefully moved his hands to her waist before leaning into kiss her again.   
"Nakago..." But he was already moving, and as always he became her everything, dulling her senses, making her forget.   
The wind blew harder outside the tent, voice raising to salute the pale and sickly moon with one mournful howl as the stars burned brightly against a backdrop of darkness.   
The lone candle lighting the room trembled, and then it went out.   


* * *

  
1.) No! Soi hasn't died quite yet, so don't be disgusted by the sexual references. Nakago is desperate; if she's still conscious enough to use her Bochuu than he'll help her. 


	3. The Last Light

_Author's Notes:_ The final moments in Soi's life, not to mention the shortest chapter yet. ;-; Soi will not be going out with a bang after all.

**Warnings:** Sexual references, swearing, major character death.

Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi, particularly the characters Nakago and Soi.   


* * *

Beloved

Day Three: The Final Light   
  
He was staring at the ceiling blankly, his breathing finding its even rhythm once more. A layer of perspiration glistened lightly over his frame, a trickle of sweat slowly sliding down his forehead as his body returned to his relaxed state, his body saturated in a faint blue light.   
Nakago felt almost ill from the duty he had performed mere hours ago. The cold knowledge of his actions formed a iron pit in his stomach, his body trembling and weak. Gods, what was he fighting for anymore?   
Had he done right or wrong in keeping in her alive? Could the feel of warm flesh caressed by the aura of carnality really ignite the fire he felt dying in her? He could recall to easily the harsh sound of her shallow breathing mixed with his quiet grunts of exertion, the feel of her too-warm body pulsing beneath his as he performed a duty too terrifying for words.   
Rolling over, he could catch a glimpse of her soft, supple body glowing softly in the illumination of the moon, the stars spiraling through the kaleidoscope of the sky to descend into her soul. The faint blue light that still clung faintly to his skin had long since faded on Soi's, her body too overwhelmed by the strain of both performing the art and accepting his _ki_ all at once.   
_It was worth it_, he reassured himself, _She wants to stay as much as I do._   
He repeated the words over and over again in his mind, as if the passionate mantra for the living flesh was the only prayer his soul had left to grasp. Like a dying man waiting for the cold, clasping hand of Death to dip his gnarled fingers into the fire of his being and dispel the warmth with an idle flick of the digits, he lie in the darkness, mind clouded with the pain of the inevitable.   
When would the suffering end and his soul be free?   
Turning his head slightly, his eyes fell on the sight outside his tent. Through the flap, the stars burned dimly as night clung desperately to its final hours of life.   
Faded. They were all faded stars. Even Soi.   
He carefully lifted a hand and traced the edge of her face. Why he had allowed such beauty to go unrecognized while she had been in his care? Why had he allowed her to suffer as she had, living every day to throw her arms around him as he pushed them away just as quickly? How had he idly stood by and watched her shrivel away to nothingness?   
_"Because you are already dead,"_ a voice said dispassionately, _"Because you are dirty. Because you are evil. Because you are everything yet nothing. Because you bother to live when your own fire has already gone out."_   
Hate, love, fear, evil. Four letter words that defined his condemnation.   
"You," he choked out softly as he ran his fingers across her cheek. Pulling her close, he nestled his face in her soft hair. "You...are my damnation."   
  
  
It was right before that dawn that he felt her begin to fade away, her soul slowly slipping away from her physical form to join the spirits carried by the clouds.   
Waking with a start, Nakago grasped her, shaking her awake as she slowly slipped away. "Soi! Damnit, wake up!"   
The woman opened one grey eye tiredly before giving him a lazy smile. "Yes, Nakago-_sama_?"   
"Just where the hell do you think you're going?" He fought the sob that rose in his throat at her lack of obvious distress at dying. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her to him. "Do you think I did what I did last night for nothing?!"   
She looked at him with sad, pitiful eyes, and his words halted in his throat. There was something akin to pity there, a disappointment in his behavior, an expectation that had been subjected and failed. She had given him a mission, and he hadn't returned, traveled the world and learned nothing.   
One small, pale hand made it to his face. "Oh, Nakago-_sama_...I thought you understand. I thought you knew." Tears brimmed in her eyes, sparkling on her eyelashes.   
"Understand what," he breathed.   
She smiled up at him again. "Why do you keep me here? I'm useless now, in your way. You have a battle to win. A nation to defeat."   
Firmly taking her hand, he pushed it away. "You were never in the way. And the battle can wait," he replied harshly.   
"But why?"   
"Because I..." He faltered, turning away. "I..."   
"Nakago-_sama_."   
He forced himself to look back down at her. "Yes?" 

"Thank you."

"For what?" he demanded angrily, frustration evident on his features.

She smiled up at him, eyes shimmering. "You were always so stubborn, always determined to be strong. But we're all so weak. Even you. You don't have to do this. You don't have to let down your walls for me. Oh, Nakago, don't you understand?"

The purpose of her words sunk in, and suddenly he pushed her aside, setting her down gently but firmly on the bed, refusing to hold her any longer. The wall caved in again, swallowing his heart.

He was not weak.

"I already told you how I feel," he responded coldly, "You aren't the one who can make me happy. Stop deluding yourself."

The cruel comment struck its mark, and Soi took a breath, pulling back from him, the smile fading. "But then why are you here?"

He studied her detachedly. "Because you are a warrior of Seiryuu. Because we can't afford the loss."

"But we've already summoned Seiryuu..."

"The priestess needs protecting."

"Lady Yui is no longer here--"

"It means nothing! Damn you woman! From the moment I met you you've been a plague. Following me, serving me, doing whatever I wished, attempting to love me when there is nothing left to love! When will you figure out that I don't care!"

The tears were falling freely now, the hot liquid glittering as it slid down her pale visage. She choked, bringing up blood, the iron crimson now mingling with the salt of her tears. She was ruined, broken. _Weak and useless._ And in front of Him no less.

But she was not defeated.

Catching her breath and halting her tears, she said in a wavering voice, "I refuse to believe that."

"You were always a fool that way," he answered carelessly, "Believing where there was nothing left to believe in."

The look Soi gave him then made him feel as though she took his words and crumpled them beneath her aching hands. "You're right; I'm not you. I'm not the fool." Turning pained eyes to the doorway, she smiled, noting the faint, pale light appearing on the far horizon. The day had almost come to take her away. Time to end the bitterness. "We made it to the dawn," she whispered softly.

Interest piqued, he met her eyes again only to clench his fists as he saw the resignation in her eyes, an acceptance of the inevitable. Prior cruelty forgotten, Nakago was suddenly gripped with the utmost feeling of terror, the enormity of what was about to happen slicing through him with the efficiency of a sumurai blade. "Soi..." He grasped her hand, suddenly desperately. _No. Please don't die...please don't die...I never meant...I never said..._

Amazing how he always worried about things after they were done.

Her face suddenly brightened at the touch of his skin, her hand tightening around his. Soi closed her eyes, breath growing more shallow each passing moment. One last time she opened them, gazing up at him with a queer look, half-fond and partially unreadable. "Thank you," she softly. Leaning back, she closed her eyes one last time.

_Don't. Don't die._

"Now are you satisfied?"

He held her until the dawn came, when her breathing stopped and her hand fell limp in his own.

Nakago stormed past the tents of his soldiers, yelling for them to awaken and prepare for the journey ahead. They would head out towards Kutou tomorrow to regroup and gather supplies before invading Konan once more. The emperor would not be pleased, but Nakago would render that worry futile when he confronted the man upon their return.

Tired soldiers and the like stumbled from their tents, bleary-eyed and clumsy. Their shogun took no heed of their condition, simply ordering for them to armor up and prepare for training. Eyes widened at the demands, the command seemingly ludicrous after being so horribly defeated less than two days earlier. After all, there were still wounded to care for.

But no soldier questioned his command. Not after they caught a glimpse of hateful, silver eyes and cold determination sketched across taunt features.

Hurriedly they dressed, rushing out doors to line themselves for inspection. Nakago focused little energy on them, only sending a demand for what exercises to take place. Few turned a resistant eye to his demands, fewer still bothered to consider it.

Something was afoot in the camp of the Kutou battalions, but nobody was willing to lend a voice in curiosity or inquiry.

So they battled and struggled against the implacable shogun and the demons he brought with his own heart, fighting exhaustion and the heat of the Konan sun, wondering desperately when the call to arms would finally end.

And above it all, the sun rose like the flames of the abyssal pit, rising higher and higher, consuming the men and their leader, a conflagration of such magnitude that no water could douse its rage nor empty of it the despair that fueled it, rising, rising until there was no escape, and the flames consumed the souls of men everywhere and burned away the innocence.

And then there was nothing. 

During the first hour after he had returned, when his eyes were greeted with the sight of her limp, fallen form, he paced his tent angrily, hands folded behind his back. His bare feet made no sound as they softly padded against the grass floor, making impressions in the grass as he continuously tread upon the same spot over and over again.

His body was covered with sweat from the midmorning heat, despite being clad only in breeches and a light shirt. Blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, rivulets of sweat running down his arms. 

He was too warm, and she was too cold. 

Too cold to still be of the fire. 

In the fist hour, he struggled for understanding. 

When the second hour came and passed, his helpless rage took the better of him. He shouted and yelled at her, demanding to know the reason for the despair and suffering within him, for the resurrection of emotions that he had thought died long ago. "Why," he would demand of the silent corpse, "What exactly did you plan on accomplishing?" His furious temper was matched only the heat of the rising sun. 

In the second hour, he raged. 

By the third hour, exhaustion and heat overwhelmed him, and he collapsed into a chair, a sullen look planting itself on his features. "Why," he would demand tiredly of her now, "Why did you bother?" His hand would stretch towards her in a semblance affection, only to be drawn back at the sight of her esoteric smile. 

In the third hour, he tired. 

Dropping to his knees, the fourth hour came with the stroke of the dinner bell, calling all to congregation. Now he rested his head on the edge of the bed, grasping her limp hand and squeezing it tightly. "Why?" he asked now through the blurry haze of tears, "Why did you leave me?" 

And then he reached forward, pulling her to him with all the desperation and sorrow of a broken and lost child clutching a doll, burying his head in his hair and mourning as he had never known himself able. 

On the third day, he mourned. 

Beyond the shadow of the hills, past the desert and the sand and the fire, the sun set in the distance, crimson rays fading to blue and violent and indigo, the fire fading from the Earth and drowning it in darkness. 

It was the end of the third day. 

Nakago lay gazing at the ceiling of his quarters. Soi was by his side, her arm splayed across her chest, face set in a peaceful smile. If he tried hard enough, he could believe that this was just as any other night, and soon she would awaken, eyes gentle and affectionate, body ready for hands to shape and mold to his every need. 

He could believe, if it wasn't for the blood. And the bandages. 

And the cold. 

And since Nakago was not a man of fantasies, he pulled away from her fallen form and existed the bed, leaving her amidst a sea of blankets, scarlet hair, and cool, midnight air. 

His hard gaze studied the features of his tent coldly, taking in every detail and asset, before falling on the candle next to his bed. He had forgotten to light it before he went to sleep, so it was as cold and dark as the night around it, not even a wisp of smoke rising from its wick. 

Eyes softened slightly before fading back to resignation of what the days to come would bring. There was a battle to be won, and he could not be bothered. 

In the far distance, a cry rose in the night, a wolf howled at the lost moon, and creatures of the night rose together in voices of mourning for the loss of the sun. The day had ended, the dark curtain had dropped, and the candle had long since extinguished, as if it had never been alive at all. 

In the middle of the black obscurity, a pair of blue eyes pierced the night cleanly. 

"No Soi, I am not satisfied." 

And the last flame extinguished. 

* * *

**Final Notes From the Author:**

I really don't know what to say about this story. I can't explain what was going through my mind when I first began to write it, and I can't say exactly what made me continue it. By far, this has to be one of, if not the, most depressing story I've ever written. Cold and dark, it focuses on the feelings and aspects of characters that I don't think any of us really want to look at.

It hurt me to write this. Both emotionally and mentally. Mentally because it really stretched my ability to write (I'm still not too happy with Soi's death scene...I'll have to rewrite it someday.) at the age I'm at (15), and emotionally because, well, I just killed off my most favorite character.

But I wrote it, and despite the depression, I'm glad I did. This story has taught me a lot about what I'm able to do right now and what I still have yet to learn. I'm proud of it in many ways, but I also cringe at a few scene as well. It's definitely paradoxical at any rate.

I wrote this story because I wanted to explore Nakago and Soi's relationship and because I felt there wasn't much emphasis placed on it. It's understandable that it was meant to represent how quickly we lose the things we love without ever realizing it, but at the same time...it surprised. (Especially since in the anime, she wouldn't have died immediately where it landed. ^_~) So I wrote this story to explore what may have happened during the time Soi was dying and how Nakago may have reacted to see if I could pull it off.

I didn't, and I won't be able to for a few years, but it challenged and taught me. I understand Nakago a little better, not to mention Soi as well. (Though I'm unsure whether or not I kept them in character...please tell me.) However, this story has it's moments, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Because I enjoyed writing it, and I apologize for the delay in getting it out.

Now, go off and read something happier. ^_~

And never forget what it means to love.

-Chaotic Serenity


End file.
